


Through the Ghost

by OpalizedFossil



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Detailed sexual content, F/F, Mentions of Gem Egg Hell, Mild Cum Inflation, Size Difference, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6895756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalizedFossil/pseuds/OpalizedFossil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Did you hide yourself away?<br/>Are you living through the ghost?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> An original character piece that I wrote for Tumblr and decided to throw on here, as well. This wasn't supposed to be this long, but here we are.

General Carnelian's Amethyst is beautiful. She is a perfect specimen, as supple and strong as a quartz soldier can ever be expected to be, with feminine curves, an oval face, a flawlessly faceted gem. Carnelian often reflects on this as she lies beside her in the most solemn hours of what the humans call the night, when the unforgiving, treacherous landscape of the earthen mountains is lit only by the slivers of moonlight that manage to seep between the trails of thick clouds that move across the sky with each bluster of the chill breeze. She lies there in silence as her mate succumbs, however temporarily, to unconsciousness, passing the time until the sun returns and the soldiers from either side of the war can resume their endless conflict, fingers trailing across her wind-flushed face, along her strong jaw, down the nape of her neck. Occasionally, her hand relocates to her beloved's hexagonal gem, to trace its facet, to memorize its shape and familiarize herself with each and every line in its smooth, hard surface. She has existed for over four thousand years now and, for nearly as long, she has loved this amethyst. She cannot remember a time when her fellow soldier was not there beside her, her optimism always there to lighten Carnelian's stern mood, her relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the general's much more disciplined facade. The two were so different - and yet so perfectly, beautifully in sync.

It is this thought - this _memory_ \- which drives General Carnelian on, through the bitter cold that her physical form cannot feel, through the intense bluster of the mountain wind, through the snow and hail that tear at her face with every step. She is unfazed, relentless.

Over the sounds of the cruel wind and the crunch of the snow underneath her shoes, a haunting howling echoes through the mountains, taunting her, beckoning her.

The sun has risen and fallen a dozen times or more since she started this chase. The soldiers she once commanded have been left behind to fend for themselves, somewhere in the earthen mountains, vulnerable to whatever ambushes and assaults the enemy might have planned. Carnelian doesn't care what becomes of them now. She doesn't care what becomes of her reputation, or what punishment will undoubtedly await her should she ever return to her post. No, her care for the war, for the soldiers, for Homeworld...it has died with her mate.

What occupies her mind now is revenge.

General Carnelian stops. She listens. The howls that have taunted her from within the mountains have ceased to call. Instead, there is what sounds distinctly like laughter - all around her, emerging from the shadows, from the snow, from spaces she cannot see. She doesn't have to see to know what's there.

Through the clouds of snow and ice, the slender shapes glide silently, like shadows in the night, the sounds too similar to laughter dying down as one of the silhouettes solidifies before her.

This is the culprit of the crime: a fossil.

No, a _monster_.

The fossil is almost as tall as she is, but carries itself on all fours like an animal. It is thin - disgustingly so, unnaturally so. There is a deranged gleam in the monster's yellow eyes, the pupils dilated. General Carnelian has stared into this pair of predatory eyes a dozen times before. There are hundreds of fossils out there now - but, she knows it is the same one because of the sliver of crimson that encircles its right eye, almost akin to a swirl. It is not a marking, but a wound, a testament to how many times this wild-eyed monstrosity has been attacked and refused to die, refused to so much as retreat into its gemstone. It isn't like the other fossils; it is smart, aware. It knows that to retreat into its gemstone will spell a certain death here, and it has such a stubborn will to live that Carnelian might have respected it, if it were anything more than a feral monster.

The monster who murdered her mate.

The golden glare watches her tauntingly as she stares at the fossil. It is an alpha, larger and stronger than the others, not entirely unlike herself. She has seen how the others, the smaller, weaker ones, obey her, all of them now stationed around her, standing by silently in the snow. The group could have converged on her and slaughtered her in an instant, the elongated claws equipped to their hands and feet shredding her physical form to ribbons and stringing her crudely constructed insides across the tundra, until she was forced to retreat into her core and shattered while she was defenseless. But, not one of them even dared to move, until their alpha commanded such.

Carnelian stares at the fossil a moment longer. She remembers how it happened too clearly, the memory forever emblazoned in her mind. She had been inside the shelter she shared with her mate, nestled close to her as she ran fingers through her hair, cooing sweet nothings to her about what their life would be like together when all this was over, promising her luxury and wealth, promising her a family. The two of them would have been content to lie there forever, or at least until sunrise, when the howling began. Dread had settled on them heavily as they rose to summon the soldiers, to ready their weapons, to prepare for a moonlit battle with forces that were supposed to be their own.

It had happened so quickly.

Carnelian didn't realize what tragedy was unfolding until she heard the sharp cry of her amethyst, so engrossed in swinging her weapon at the attacking gems that she had completely neglected to consider where the alpha might be.

Turning, she had found her answer.

The alpha - the one with the scar that swirled around its eye - had thrown itself on her mate, her amethyst, and drove its claws into her chest, shredding through soft, supple flesh, its vicious, vicious teeth encircling the delicate underside of her throat in a bite world-renown to be deadly.

Carnelian couldn't reach her mate in time. The alpha's fangs pierced her, while claws tore down through her stomach and sides, spilling organs, spilling blood. The quartz screeched, flailed, tried to fend the fossil off with her weapon, but it was too late. She had no control over how quickly her physical form fell away, receding into the presumed safety of her hexagonal, purple gem.

Carnelian blinked as tears froze on her lashes, her heart broken. She could still hear the shatter that meant she had been too late for her beloved, her gemstone caught in the fossil's fangs before it had ever touched the snow.

Now, the one responsible for her mate's murder stood before her, a snarl rumbling within her.

General Carnelian stared at the scar that encircled the fossil's eye for one moment more, then reached for her mace. As her gemstone ignited and the weapon sprang free, so did the fossil who had awaited her move so patiently, springing towards her like an insane animal, thin tendrils of saliva clinging to the corners of her lips.

The mace connected with the fossil's mandible, then she tumbled backwards into the snow, stunned at the force of the blow. It was the opening the quartz needed to land the lethal blow.

Never had she heard such a satisfying shatter.

Shards of broken bone scattered across the ice as what had once been an aggressive predator became nothingness. The laughter concealed in the plumes of snow and hail fell suddenly, jarringly silent.

From the shadows came the other fossils, but Carnelian had no fear of them. Fossils without an alpha were fossils who could be reclaimed, controlled. She could have returned them to her station and been safe from the turmoil she would undoubtedly face for abandoning her troops, perhaps even been rewarded for reclaiming such a valuable asset. The fossils would have followed her there blindly, forever ready to oblige her every request until she herself was taken down.

Fossils were peculiar in this way; whoever was strong enough to bring down their leader was worthy of their loyalty, and so she would be their alpha now, to do with them as she pleased, to lead them, to guide them.

Instead, she lingered an hour longer out in the snow, relishing in the sensation of shattering them all.

* * * * *

It had been centuries since the death of Carnelian's beloved mate - four thousand, five hundred years, to be precise.

General Carnelian was now stationed in the arena where the new soldiers were trained, fresh from the Kindergartens. She was renowned as the quartz who had almost led Homeworld to victory in the war for earth - almost.

Once a proud and powerful soldier, she was now little more than a babysitter, eight thousand years old and far removed from the heat of battle. With how seldom gem authority was questioned, there had been little use for someone like her, much less the soldiers she was bitterly training. She imagined that her trainees, so hungry for the thrill of battles that would likely never come, saw her as a grizzled old veteran, often pleading her for war stories she declined to tell them. Everyday, it was the same. She entered the arena, she ran her pathetic excuses for soldiers through the ringer, she left the arena.

Carnelian was bitter. This was tedious business.

Thus, it comes as a surprise to her when she's seated in her captain's chair one day, propping up on her elbow as she observes her soldiers sparring disinterestedly, and hears the warp pad activate behind her.

Turning, Carnelian starts to address the intruder, when a breath she doesn't need hitches in her throat and her fingers tighten on the arm of her chair.

For a moment, she's certain it's her - the alpha fossil, back from the dead. Her immediate reaction is to check the fossil's right eye and there it is, that distinctive, circular swirl of a scar - except it isn't a scar and it is, most peculiarly, a shimmery blue.

It is several seconds before Carnelian realizes that it isn't the alpha - but, it is a fossil and it has no business in her arena, she's certain. She's eager to see what has brought this intruder here, and even more eager to be rid of her as quickly as possible.

Before she has the chance to address the fossil, it hurries past her and towards her susceptible soldiers, whom Carnelian is certain are doomed for a fraction of a second before she remembers that fossils are no longer designed to be cold-blooded killers, and that this one is so small that it's no match for a quartz, anyways. Still, she's uncomfortable with how close the fossil ventures to her trainees, who watch her approach curiously and listen closely to what she has to say.

The fossil smiles as she leans on a bench, her rather shapely hips canted to one side. She observes the trainees for a moment longer before she selects her victim and moves in for the kill, with an exclamation of, "Hey there!"

The trainee answers with immediate interest, purring delightedly as she lowers the weight in her hands and ventures ever so slightly closer to the intruder. The fossil plays coy, glancing away and pretending to not notice how the quartz soldier pushes her chest out impressively, towering over her proudly as she rumbles, "Well, hello there. What's a little thing like you doin' down here in the arena? You ain't here to spar, are ya?"

The fossil chuckles ever so softly, her eyes sly. Carnelian has never seen a fossil with blue eyes before. It's strange. "You could say that, I suppose," she responds in such a seductive lull that even Carnelian sways for a second.

"Y-Yeah?" the quartz trainee prompts, a little too nervously. Her confident facade falters as the fossil waltzes forward to close the distance between them, a slender, dexterous hand relocating to her muscular chest, where it rubs a slow, deliberate circle. "I, uh...I think the locker rooms are empty," the soldier informs her quickly.

The giggle that emerges from the fossil's throat at the trainee's lack of suave is sickeningly sweet, or so Carnelian thinks, as she watches in disgust as the two waltz off to the locker room. She stares after them in disbelief. Her first thought is to reprimand her soldier for her lack of dedication, when she realizes who the real culprit is. The fossil has no business in _her_ arena or with _her_ trainees, and it isn't the young quartz's fault for being lulled into her trap so easily. She has no doubts that the young gem has never mated before, and so is a little too eager to experience it with whoever will allow it. She can't blame her, can she? After all, the fossil is rather easy on the eyes - for a reinvented war machine who will inevitably turn on and obliterate someone someday.

Fuming, Carnelian awaits the return of her trainee impatiently. It's awhile before the young quartz reemerges from the locker room, with the fossil following closely behind. The other soldiers are even more interested than before, all of them pausing their weight-lifting and sparring to observe her curiously. Her hips move with an alluring sway as she walks, catching every eye in the room - with one exception.

Carnelian rises to stop her before she can leave. "You have some nerve."

The fossil blinks at her. Momentarily, Carnelian is entranced by the icy irises of her eyes, surprised again by their color, before she realizes that the little beast is staring uncomfortably. She can't imagine what's going through her undoubtedly filthy mind. "Hey, you can undress someone with your eyes later, _dirtcake_. Right now, you're in trouble. Who's your manager?"

The fossil snorts. "Oh, sweetheart, I _am_ the manager."

Carnelian scoffs. "You? You're the alpha fossil?"

The other seems startled at her use of terminology, but recovers quickly. "Of course. Why shouldn't I be?"

"For starters, you're irresponsible," the quartz soldier informs her sternly, a frown inset in her features, "Not to mention that you're nothing more than an overcooked runt. Are you really as big as they come now?"

The fossil laughs delightedly. It isn't an unpleasant sound, her voice smooth and almost soothing, while still retaining the rumble reminiscent of a snarl that her species is so well-known for. "Oh, General, I'm big in more ways than one."

Carnelian can't believe this. It is ridiculous enough to speak to a quartz soldier this way, but she isn't just an ordinary quartz, either. She's _the_ carnelian, a general, the highest rank someone in her field can ever hope to achieve. She deserves to be addressed with respect and reverence - not this crude, sexual tease. Scoffing, she waves her hand at the other dismissively. The sooner she's rid of her, the better. She can't be bothered to discipline her properly, she tells herself. She doesn't like the little beast so close to her or her trainees, either. "Get outta my arena, dirtcake," she retorts, "Go drool over someone else."

Snorting, the fossil informs her, "A gem your age is hardly worth drooling over."

Carnelian is too tired to entertain her taunt, so she remains silent. It's while she's glaring daggers at the much smaller, much thinner individual that she realizes that something is severely amiss. There is a peculiar quality to the gem's brown skin; in the fluorescent lights that glare down on the arena from overhead, she seems to sparkle and shine ever so slightly. The shimmer is most saturated around the stripes and swirls of blue that spread across her physical form. She has seen enough fossils in her lifetime to know how intricate their stripes can become, but she has never seen one whose markings came in blue. Fossils were dull little dirtcakes, as far as she knew, with no semblance of shimmer to their skins - but, this one was different.

She must have stared a moment too long, because the fossil noticed. Her plump lips curve into a little smirk - a smile that could be called seductive or could be called a little too close to a snarl - as she purrs delightedly, "You like that, General? Never seen an _opalized_ fossil, I take it?"

Her voice is, in itself, a tease. Carnelian hates it. She hates the way the fossil says _opalized_ like it means she's something special, something more than an upcycled war machine. She hates the way her eyes glimmer brightly behind her thick lashes, which she's all too eager to bat as she croons at her like she's another vulnerable, hormonal trainee who can't control her urges. Most of all, she hates that damned smirk she refuses to wipe off her face, far too smug for someone of her social status.

She hates the fossil, too - because of what she is.

Carnelian doesn't realize her hands are balled into fists at her sides, the tension coloring her knuckles lighter than her burgundy hide. "I don't care if you're a damned diamond. Get out of my arena," she snarls in a voice more hostile than she realizes. Something within her fumes, a heat erupting in her depths. Is she angry? Is she...afraid?

"Jeez, you're as much of a big brute as the others say you are," the fossil mutters as she retreats for a few feet.

Carnelian notices the tension in her fists, the warmth in her stomach. Hot air blows from her nostrils as she exhales and steadies herself, swallowing harshly. It isn't like her to lose control on her emotions so easily - and yet, in the presence of this war machine, a reminder still too tender of the ancient beast who had murdered her mate centuries before, she very nearly had. Cautiously, she lifts her stare to watch the fossil for a moment more, before she tells her sternly, "I believe I asked you to leave."

"Fine," the fossil huffs, and Carnelian has never been so relieved in her life. She watches uneasily as the opalized gem ventures over to the warp pad and, with a touch of its surface, vanishes elsewhere in headquarters. The nerve of the little beast! Coming into her arena and sleeping around with her soldiers, then attempting to seduce her - the general, for fuck's sake - as well!

As General Carnelian returns to her captain's chair, she can feel the curious stares of her trainees. The clueless soldiers have no idea. She has never had the nerve to tell them about what became of her mate, or to so much as mention her, in fear that the persistent trainees would prod and want answers to questions she was unprepared to tell them.

"Boss?" one of them pipes up eventually, after several minutes have passed and the tension in the room still hasn't dissolved.

"What?" Carnelian snaps hatefully.

The soldier almost flinches. "You...uh, okay?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" she retorts as she rests her chin on her elbow and frowns at the warp pad resentfully.

"Well, uh...you seem a little shaken up, is all," the trainee tells her innocently, "and we all know how afraid you are of fossils."

Carnelian's glare wheels in the soldier's direction, her golden eyes narrow, angry. "I am _not_ afraid of fossils."

The tension has returned to her stomach and, suddenly, she feels ill. Her expression softens as she exhales. "I'm not afraid of fossils. I just hate them. I really, really fuckin' hate them."

* * * * *

Only a few days pass before the opalized fossil returns to the arena - this time, before General Carnelian even arrives. The commander enters the arena to the ludicrous scene of her soldiers crowded around a metallic bench, where the much smaller fossil is laid with her legs obscenely spread, thick thighs ajar to reveal the warm, slick slit in-between, alongside a sizable, blue tentacle that has been teased to partial erection, twisting among the fingers of a curious trainee who has dared to touch it. The fossil croons and cries out lewdly as the quartz run their hands over her form delicately, two large fingers pressing into the generous slickness of her entrance to coax a soft moan from her, while others tease her small, flat breasts to perky peaks.

Carnelian stares at the scene disbelievingly, stunned.

It is the sight of a soldier's fingers slipping past the fossil's plump lips, to stroke and tease the blue tongue tucked between the serrated fangs, that finally snaps her back to her senses.

"What the hell is going on in here?" she demands as she encroaches on the intimate scene, her soldiers scattering when she shouts, leaving their fossil friend on full display in the center of the room. Her uniform had vanished, baring a body adorned with dozens of thin, blue stripes, all shimmering softly in the bright lights. Only the leather collar around her throat had remained.

Carnelian stands there helplessly and stares. She doesn't want to see this. She doesn't want to look. She doesn't want to confess that this fossil is beautiful, attractive, _sexy_.

The war machine chuckles and reaches down with two clever little fingers, spreading her lower lips so invitingly. "You like it, General?"

Carnelian swallows hard as she averts her stare. Her stomach smolders. She can feel the pressure between the thin material of her uniform and the unexpected erection she had sprouted - and she doesn't doubt that the fossil has noticed it, too. The damned beast notices everything. "Why are you here?" she answers weakly.

"Isn't it obvious, soldier?" the smooth voice coos, "I'm here to have fun. Your trainees seem perfectly willing."

"Leave my arena," Carnelian orders her with as much authority as she can summon in her current state, humiliated that her troops have been forced to see her like this. Since when did she lose control so easily? "I won't ask you again."

But, it isn't the last time she requests that the fossil leave. For what would have been months on earth, this unplanned schedule carries on, with the unwanted intruder visiting the arena every few days to prey on her unsuspecting soldiers. Even with her disdain for the breed as a whole, Carnelian is certain that this fossil is especially annoying, to say nothing of how lewd she is. How many times has she unintentionally came upon the strong thighs spread to display the lush slit in-between them, flushed from the stimulation her trainees were all too willingly providing? More times than she can count by now, she's certain.

She hates her. Oh, how she hates her.

Everyday, Fossil - as she is now known - enters the arena when her own research slows, to prey upon the young soldiers and their exploitably high hormones. Everyday, she becomes less content with them, bored with them. Everyday, she instead decides to tease Carnelian, who shouts at and scolds her, forever threatening and never seeing it through.

Everyday, Carnelian denies that it has an effect on her. She denies the warmth that builds in her depths, or the strain of her sizable tentacle in her trousers when the fossil ventures a little too near with her delicate, feather-like touch. She denies that she might, perhaps, want this, want to be with this little beast in a way that she hasn't been with someone in over four thousand years.

Today, Fossil comes in a little late. It must have been busier than usual in the research lab, Carnelian observes as she watches with satisfaction as the war machine comes in and finds the arena abandoned. Then, she rises from her captain's chair and smirks at her. "Looks like someone isn't getting any today, dirtcake," she rumbles as she prances towards the fossil confidently, "The trainees are done for today."

Fossil is silent. Then, she looks at her over her shoulder, smirking seductively. " _You're_ still here, General."

Carnelian scoffs. "You wish, mutt. Now, c'mon, I can't leave with you in here," she tells her as she turns to leave, then pauses when she hears the intruder behind her, her footsteps slow and deliberate, her shoulders raised ever so slightly. The quartz shudders as the realization sinks in: the fossil is stalking her.

"Cut it out," she orders her sharply as she continues towards the warp pad, only to have her only escape route blocked by the small, slender shape. For a moment, her mind returns to the moment when she stood in the snow-covered mountains of the earth, face-to-face with the fossil who had shattered her mate. The thought lingers only long enough to make her heart hurt. Then, she's staring into the pair of blue eyes below her once more, her own golden gaze steady and stern. Fossil is close to her, closer than she's ever allowed her to come.

"What's the matter, General?" Fossil taunts her, smooth features forever embellished with that terrible little smirk, "Scared?"

"I'm not afraid of fossils," the quartz soldier informs her as she moves to venture around her, only to have her path quite irritatingly barred once more. This opalized monstrosity is as persistent as her ancestors were. Her jaw hardens, face inset with a stern frown. She's in no mood for this fossil's bullshit today. "Get out of the way, dirtcake."

Fossil flashes her a suave smile - a smile laden with lethal little teeth. Her eyes glimmer mischievously as she whispers into the tense room, "Make me."

Oh, Carnelian wants to. She wants to make her move. Part of her even wants to succumb to this relentless teasing and flirting, to slam the filthy little fossil into the nearest wall and rut her senseless. Part of her knows better.

Her mind returns once more to her mate. She exhales unsteadily as her stomach ties itself in knots. Then, unexpectedly, she swallows a lump she didn't realize had formed in her throat.

Fossil notices. Rows of serrated teeth vanish behind plump lips as the smile fades from her features, her brow furrowed in concern as she steps ever so slightly closer. "General..."

It's too much for the quartz soldier. She raises a hand that halts the fossil, then slowly turns away. "Go."

"Carnelian..." A small, slender hand settles on the soldier's shoulder blade. Underneath the red hide, the muscles tense.

Then, Carnelian whirls around. There are tears in her eyes. "Get out of here, you _fucking fossil!"_

Her voice is loud - a shout, a roar. Frightened, Fossil recoils and cowers down, whimpering submissively. But, Carnelian feels no remorse. Instead, she towers over her, pointing a finger at her accusingly. "You fucking _war machine!"_

Fossil stares at her unsteadily as she cowers before her. "I...I'm not..."

"You're _all_ war machines! You fucking fossils!" Carnelian doesn't conceal her tears now, letting them fall freely. There's shame in her loss of control over her emotions, but, right now, she doesn't care. For once, she allows her heart to ache, her eyes to water, her temper to flare. She lets it all out on her unsuspecting victim, swinging a finger in the air as she points at her and roars, "I hate you!"

Fossil is stunned.

Carnelian stands there in silence as the tears continue to flow. She hates the sensation, the way the lump in her throat blocks a breath she doesn't need to take, the way her face feels sticky and tacky with salty wetness. Unexpectedly, she hiccups, and it's a sound far too cute to come from someone of her demeanor, she's sure. She feels a flash of shame that only makes her feel like crying even more.

Then, the warm little hand returns to its station between her shoulder blades. "You don't mean it," the familiar voice tells her, and she knows it's true. She doesn't mean it. She _wants_ to mean it, but she doesn't.

Her breath leaves her in a shuttery sigh, then she ventures over to her captain's chair and sits down heavily, sniffling softly. Fossil follows her, to stand beside her and rest her gentle fingers on her forearm soothingly. Suddenly, Carnelian realizes how little she minds her touch, how much she actually enjoys it.

"I didn't mean it," the quartz whispers softly, her voice a low rumble as she unexpectedly extends a hand. Her palm is open - until Fossil's much smaller fingers fill it. "I didn't. I'm sorry."

"I know," Fossil murmurs as her fingers tangle with the soldier's carefully, "I'm sorry, too. I didn't want to upset you."

Carnelian leans into the leather cushions of her chair and tilts her head backwards to stare into the fluorescent lights above her miserably. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't blame you."

"You were a soldier," Fossil sympathizes as she frowns down at their entwined hands, "You saw terrible things."

"You have no idea...," Carnelian exhales as she withdraws her hand, to instead trail her fingers down one side of the fossil's face. Her skin is soft and warm. It isn't like her own, calloused and rather cold. "You're beautiful..."

Suddenly, the fossil she has known as self-absorbed and overconfident is modest. "I'm just a fossil."

"Well..." Carnelian tries to smile, but the effort is feeble, "You're a pretty damn special fossil."

Unexpectedly, Fossil's face feels warm. She's blushing. It isn't something she experiences often, outside of the flush her face feels when she breeds. It seems both of them are experiencing new and uncomfortable things today - but, it isn't altogether unpleasant, she decides as she stares over at the honey eyes beside her.

Carnelian leans in and kisses her. Fossil's mouth is as warm and soft as the rest of her, while Carnelian's lips are chapped and rough, unfitting for the gentle exchange the two now share. For a fraction of a second, she is reminded of her mate, her amethyst, and how warm her own lips were - until the sight, the smell, the sensation that is Fossil fills her mind instead. Warmth blossoms in her chest as she kisses the opalized gem until she's breathless, pulling away only briefly to smile softly before she moves in once more.

"General...," Fossil whimpers as the lips venture from her mouth down to the sensitive skin of her throat, yelping when dull teeth nip roughly at the place where her neck meets her shoulder. Her face flushes as Carnelian kisses down her shoulder, the enormous, muscular arms encircling her physical form to pull her down into the captain's chair, where she soon finds herself situated in the middle of the quartz's large lap.

"Carnelian," the soldier tells her softly, "You can call me Carnelian."

She starts to protest, but is silenced when the quartz kisses her mouth once more, then pulls away quickly. "Don't argue with me," she reprimands her as she allows her own cool mouth to venture over the fossil's form once more, this time traveling along the collar of her uniform, down to the space between her small, flat breasts, where the stripes on her skin shine brightly. "I've wanted to teach you a lesson since the first time you came here, dirtcake," she snarls softly, "and now, I'm going to discipline you the way you deserve."

Then, Carnelian seizes the collar of the fossil's uniform in one oversized fist and tears it clean off of her form in a single motion, the shredded fabric dissipating into thin air between her fingers as she mounts an assault on the opalized gem's little breasts with her rough mouth. Fossil purrs softly as the thick tongue rolls over her nipples roughly. Carnelian doesn't stop until both nipples are teased stiff and the flesh around them is flushed blue. Fossil moans as she tangles her fingers in the soldier's thick locks of hair, and it is the most beautiful sound Carnelian has ever heard.

The hand buried in her hair directs the quartz commander further downwards, where a bulge strains visibly beneath the almost sheer material of the uniform's tattered remains, the fabric smeared with slickness as the tentacle underneath it squirms lustfully. Carnelian, however, will have none of this. "You want me to suck that, don't you?" she teases as she allows a single, sizable finger to press into the tentacle's wriggling tip through the damp cloth, to which Fossil hisses pleasurably, "Well, unfortunately for you, I'm not about to suck some dirtcake's dick!"

"Carnelian...," Fossil whines as she gyrates her hips ever so slightly, eager for whatever friction the soldier's finger can provide, "P-Please..."

"But, I bet a filthy fossil like you _loves_ to suck cock, don't you?" the quartz snarls as she rises and seizes the fossil with a fistful of her short, coarse hair. There's a slight hiss as her uniform dissipates, to bare her body to someone for the first time in four thousand years. She is over eight feet tall, her entire form laden in muscle that bulges and ripples underneath her red hide. Her broad chest houses breasts suitable for an individual of her size, each almost the size of Fossil's entire little head. But, most prominently, a tentacle the length of the fossil's forearm protrudes proudly from a swathe of beige hair that surrounds her crotch, slightly lighter than the rest of her and equally as large. It beckons for friction with every writhe and squirm, which Fossil is entirely too eager to provide, her warm breath fluttering across the tip teasingly as she opens her mouth wide to accept it.

Carnelian stares down at the mouthful of serrated teeth and, suddenly, is terrified. Then, she steels her resolve and clenches her first in the fossil's short hair, frowning sternly as she drags her mouth closer to her flourishing erection. "You better watch those teeth, mutt!" she snarls, "Now, suck!"

Willingly, Fossil stretches her mouth as wide as she can, plump lips suctioned close to her sharp teeth, so as not to puncture the tender flesh that, inch by inch, slowly vanishes into the warmth of her mouth. Her eyes roll with the sheer size of the intrusion, but, still, she carries on, easing the organ into the recesses of her throat until all it has to offer has been swallowed.

Carnelian is impressed. "Damn."

Fossil swallows and her throat tightens even more. Carnelian hisses at the sensation, then gasps as the opalized gem withdraws, pulling the flat, wet surface of her tongue and the warmth of her plump lips with her, only to return a moment later, forcing her thick cock back into the recesses of her throat once more. In her mouth and throat, the tentacle curls, always attempting to choke her and somehow never succeeding, even as she begins to hasten her torturous pace to something more suitable. Carnelian tries and fails to stifle a moan as Fossil begins to bob back and forth on her tentacle rather quickly, imagining how much practice she must have had to have reached this level of skill. "Oh, fuck...," she sighs contentedly into the empty room, "You're not bad at this, are you, dirtcake?"

When she looks down, Fossil is answering her with her eyes, the lids lowered and the lashes batting in an exaggerated expression of sultriness. Still, Carnelian loves it, her tentacle twitching heavily.

It has been centuries - millennium, even - since Carnelian has had sexual contact with someone. After her mate's death, it seemed a waste of time. Now, she was reminded of the delight of sexuality, as the warmth within her core suddenly swelled and erupted down the length of her slippery shaft, to spill its thick essence into Fossil's mouth. Fossil was prepared and, in a few sloppy gulps, Carnelian's entire load had been swallowed with impressive expertise. Then, with an almost comical pop, she opens her mouth and releases the rapidly softening tentacle. Semen dribbles down her chin from the corners of her lips, testament to how much the soldier had came.

Still encased in the warm sensation of her release, the quartz moans softly and loosens her grip on the fossil's hair, panting ever so slightly as she stares down at her, mildly impressed. "Not bad," she confesses begrudgingly.

"I think I deserve better than a 'not bad,' General," Fossil retorts with that terribly teasing smile of hers. The sight of her smug expression alone is enough to reignite the flames smoldering in the soldier's stomach, her tentacle stiffening once more. Oh, she wants to discipline her. She wants to shove her cock back into that warm, wet little mouth and force her to wipe that stupid smirk off of her face.

Then, she has an even better idea.

"Don't talk back to me, dirtcake," she snarls as she reaches down and ensnares the fossil's wrists in her enormous, calloused hands. Fossil whimpers as Carnelian tears her from her chair by her slender arms, dangling her midair precariously for several seconds while she settles down in the spacious seat herself. Then, with the opalized gem's wrists still clutched together in one large extremity, she reaches in-between her plump, toned thighs and uses the fingers of her free hand to spread her lower lips teasingly, admiring how the generous slick clings to her digits, stringing between them in excess. Grinning slyly, she comments, "You're a horny little bitch, aren't you?"

Fossil doesn't deny it. "I am!"

Carnelian uses two fingers to spread her outer folds wider, then plunges the digit in-between them into the warm wetness of her core, behind her wriggling, neglected tentacle. Fossil gasps softly as the finger fills her, as large and girthy as some cocks she's taken. Grinning, the quartz withdraws her finger ever so slightly, until it is almost out of her, then plunges it into her warmth once more, with a wet squish that is almost comical. Once it is inside her, she curls it, to scratch carefully at the rough patch hidden in her inner walls, evoking a soft moan from above her as Fossil wriggles and squirms, her entire form now matching the writhes of her tentacle.

She continues this for some time, experimenting with different thrusts and curls of her thick finger, until she feels the inner muscles beginning to contract and throb, painfully near to release. Then, with a chuckle, she withdraws, leaving Fossil whimpering and protesting overhead, her thighs grinding together in a desperate search for friction on organs she cannot reach on her own with her hands bound above her. "C-Carnelian...! Please...!" she pleads pitifully, her brows drawn together as she pants softly, the warmth in her depths dwindling as her body retreats from the brink of release. Desperately, she whines, but the soldier will have none of it.

"Quiet," Carnelian orders her as she trails her fingertips along the inside of the fossil's thigh teasingly, down to her knee and back up again. She relishes in how the fossil convulses in her grasp, whimpering softly, pleadingly. She admires how the outer folds of her cunt have parted to reveal her eager entrance, which drools slick down her thighs readily, in anticipation for an intrusion even larger than her fingers. She even examines the thick little tentacle that throbs and twists above her slit, squirming desperately, hungry for attention she doesn't intend to supply. With a twist of her wrists, she turns the fossil's form to take in the view of her attractive ass, seated on shapely thighs. A purr rumbles within her as she lifts her hand to slap her backside and chuckles when Fossil rewards her with a surprised yelp.

Then, she grins broadly and lowers her victim enough to whisper huskily in her ear, "Are you excited, brat? I'm finally going to fuck you."

Fossil shudders.

Carnelian couldn't be more satisfied with her response as she clutches the fossil's wrists with one hand and uses the other to spread her thighs across her lap carefully. Then, she releases her arms and allows her to fall - right onto her thick, throbbing tentacle. Fossil moans aloud as the thick intrusion buries itself deep within her, even farther into her warm core than she expected. Carnelian hisses at the sensation that she hasn't felt in centuries, coupled with the new experience of a mate far too small for her, the fossil's inner walls squeezing her more tightly than her amethyst's ever did. Suddenly, she appreciates the copious slick that the fossil produces so, so much more.

"Oh, shit," the quartz soldier pants softly as she relocates her enormous hands to her victim's shapely hips, "You're _tight_."

"N-No," Fossil whimpers in response as she stares down at her stomach and sees a distinctive bulge there, where a tentacle the size of her forearm has entered her hot core, "You're just _huge!"_

Carnelian chuckles as she leans forward to nibble on the shell of her ear. "Of course I'm huge. I'm a quartz."

"Your trainees aren't this size!" Fossil pants in reply, to which the quartz soldier laughs - a throaty, velvety sound - and informs her, "Because they're young. They'll grow."

Once she's certain that the fossil has stretched to her size, Carnelian encircles her shapely thighs in her enormous hands and uses them to lift her off of her lap slightly. "You better put your arms around my neck, baby," she purrs in the heat of the moment, her hatred for fossils momentarily forgotten as she loses all reservations in the midst of her lust, "'cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride!"

Fossil snorts at her cheesy line, but obliges, her slender arms winding around her neck. "You're terrible," she teases her, face flushed as she stares down at the tentacle now impaling her physical form and loving every moment of their time together.

"Your physical form believes otherwise," Carnelian purrs as she uses the hands on the fossil's waist to lift her an entire twelve inches from her lap, until only a few inches of her length remain within her, then drops her. Fossil gasps as the thick tentacle fills her a second time, face flushed as the sweat beads on her forehead. "You wanna moan, don't you? Do it."

Fossil swallows her sounds for spite as she's raised from her lover's lap once more, then left to free fall back down onto her massive shaft. She grunts as it sinks into the warmth of her core, resisting the urge to vocalize the pleasure that shoots through her body like little arrows, piercing whatever nerves they happen to find.

"Do it!" Carnelian bellows as she clutches the shapely hips in her hands even tighter, this time lifting the fossil and then slamming her back down on her cock with force. Fossil is unable to stifle the shout that tears through her throat and free from her plump lips, echoing across the arena loudly. "That's more like it!"

"O-Oh, Carnelian!" Fossil cries freely now as she's raised and lowered time after time, until the pleasurable warmth in her stomach has risen to a torturous inferno that blazes hungrily, her inner walls pulsating and throbbing as they grip at Carnelian's massive length. Her own moans are so loud that it rattles her brain, perhaps aided by the earthquake that the quartz soldier is causing within her as her hips are spurred into action, thrusting upwards hungrily, deeper into her tightening core.

"Wow," the quartz commander huffs as the heat rises in her own face, concealed by the burgundy color of her hide, grinning slightly as she moves her hips quickly, "Are all dirtcakes as horny as you?"

"It's innate," Fossil chuckles as she stares down at the bulge gliding up and down her stomach seamlessly, hypnotized by its rhythmic motions, punctuated by the occasional huff or moan from the enormous quartz behind her, "All fossils love sex! Guess you didn't know what you were missing, huh?" She hisses as a particularly vigorous thrust of her lover's hips sends the bulge beneath her skin shooting halfway up her stomach. Suddenly, she's grateful that she has no digestive organs.

Carnelian exhales in the fossil's ear. "Right. Because you little bastards have to be able to reproduce as quickly and efficiently as possible."

" _You're_ a little bastard," Fossil mumbles beneath her breath bitterly before her voice is swallowed in her moans. She's close, so close.

"Well, because of a war machine like you, _I_ never got to have cubs!" Carnelian snarls as she leans down to feast upon the place where the fossil's throat meets her shoulder, her blunt teeth nipping roughly while her chapped lips suck at the skin hungrily, "And now, I'm gonna make damn sure that I get to have them!"

Fossil swallows hard when she realizes what the soldier means. "Carnelian..."

"You're about to be carrying my quartz cubs, understand?" the commander rumbles in her ear as she releases her throat to instead nibble on the shell of her ear, her thrusts slowing deliberately, "And I hope it wrecks this pretty little body of yours. I really do."

"Cubs..." Fossil is starry-eyed at the idea. Carnelian smiles, her chin rested on her lover's shoulder briefly before she leans back into her chair abruptly, groaning as her hips rise off the leather cushions in their quest to venture ever deeper into the satisfyingly tight hole encompassing her throbbing organ. "You close, General?"

"You bet your filthy little ass I'm close!" Carnelian snarls as she thrusts into the fossil's warmth a few times more, a mass she has become unaccustomed to building in her length as the fertile semen races down her slippery shaft to erupt from her tentacle's teeth in what feels like a fountain. The sheer force of it causes her lover to hiss, a soft sound soon drowned in the roar of her own ferocious moan. She's only vaguely aware that Fossil is reaching orgasm alongside her, her inner walls contracting so deliciously tightly that it milks her cock for all it's worth, squeezing so much semen free from her length that her little stomach begins to balloon ever so slightly.

When Carnelian's vision ceases to flash white, Fossil is stretched across her torso limply, mewling softly as her legs squirm reflexively, her inner walls still pulsating around her length freely. She's aware of a stickiness streaming down her muscular thighs as her semen seeps free from around her thick tentacle, still shoved into her lover's warmth even as it softens. Her own chest heaves as she catches the breath she doesn't need, reveling in how completely and utterly human she feels in this instant.

Then, as the warmth in her stomach is sated at last, she leans forward and kisses the fossil on the mouth ever so softly, almost tenderly. It was almost romantic, if it weren't for the blindingly bright lights glaring down on them from overheard or the increasingly warm leather cushions underneath her, now tacky with heat and sweat.

After Carnelian withdraws from her mouth, the two sit there in silence for several moments, in the warm aftermath of their release, with the quartz soldier savoring the tightness of the fossil's slit while she still can, even as her tentacle softens and begins to retreat into her body. It comes free from Fossil's body quietly, followed by a trickle of semen that drips down onto the cushion below. When she moves, Fossil can hear the surplus of semen slosh in her stomach and whines softly. Surely she's pregnant now, an idea that both excites and scares her.

For awhile, the two remain slouched in the seat in unsure silence, until Fossil pipes up, "Carnelian...?"

"Hmm?" the quartz prompts lazily, exhausted for the first time in many years.

"What did you mean when you said...a war machine like me was the reason you never had cubs?" Fossil wonders quietly, cautiously. She senses how Carnelian tenses at the inquiry and, for a moment, she wishes she could take it back, before the soldier sighs and smiles at her softly.

"A fossil killed my mate," Carnelian tells her. It's as hard as ever for her to say - but, she finds that it hurts less now that Fossil is here with her. She can't help but wonder why.

"Oh, I'm...I'm so sorry...," Fossil whispers as she averts her eyes to the tiled floor, where a splatter of semen has somehow found itself, "I guess that's why you hate me."

"I don't hate you," Carnelian replies - and she means it. She doesn't hate Fossil, not even when she wants to, not even when she knows she should. It confuses her, how she feels about the opalized gem.

Fossil's voice is tender. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"It...was a long time ago, Fossil. Perhaps it's time that I moved on," Carnelian exhales softly as she stares down at her uneasily, then suddenly envelopes her waist in a muscular arm. She's not ready to let her leave just yet.

"I shouldn't have teased you," Fossil laments, to which the quartz soldier chuckles lightly and pulls her in a little closer, to savor her warmth if only for a moment longer, to pretend for a moment that this little beast can fill the ache in her chest.

Except that she already has.

"Fossil, I'm so glad you did."


End file.
